Remuneration
by mayachain
Summary: From a strategic point of view, the whole endeavor was a complete waste.  Or, reading your brother's email leads to questionable decisions.


It wasn't anything the expedition needed, strictly speaking. From a strategic point of view, an endeavor such as this would, in fact, be a complete waste. This didn't stop John from drumming his fingers against his desktop as he re-read the bit from Dave's email that referenced the upcoming S.I. auction. Hadn't the idea been stuck in his head ever since he'd heard Corporal Jerkins bring it up in a lark? And hadn't the trips to and from the San Francisco harbor been one of the few things Teyla had truly enjoyed during her enforced time on Earth?

_Rodney'll kill me,_ he thought. _Woolsey will have a conniption. Lorne will have my head._

They had enough people with at least some nautical experience, he knew. _Besides, when you're dealing with alien technology on a regular basis getting the hang of mostly automatized Tau'ri equipment under reasonably safe circumstances probably won't present much of a challenge._

"I got it off cheap," he told his laptop in a voice that needed more practice if he wanted to convince, well, anyone. But he figured he ought actually be able to get a reasonable price. After all, he'd had years of watching Teyla broker deals for Lanteans and Athosians alike.

Biting his lip in thought, John traded Dave's email for the science directory and pulled up Zelenka's second-to-last progress report. The only reason he could even dream of managing the shipment to Pegasus – _shipment, ha_ - was the serious shit Rodney and Zelenka had been doing with the Wraith dart storage beams. He might be kidding himself, but he didn't think it would be too hard to borrow one of the miniature prototypes the next time Landry kindly requested his presence at a meeting. Getting it out of the Mountain undetected might be trickier but _what the hell, even Wraith tech has been known to like me on occasion._

Decision half made, John left the science directory and opened the pdf Dave had attached. He doubted that his brother had expected him to do more than glance at the goods, but it meant something that Dave had remembered the grand bi-annual auctions as one of the few ventures Sheppard Industries engaged in that had held John's interest as a teenager. Too bad John wouldn't be able to see his face when he realized what havoc his email had wrought.

_Not that one,_ John thought with a half-amused frown. _That one either... Definitely not that one..._ Ronon and Teyla were unlikely to care but Rodney would be wary of going _under_ water. He didn't get seasick, though – the prolonged trips they had taken with Teyla on Earth had proved it – so it should be alright if only John could find a yacht that had one of the rooms installed above deck.

He was thinking about shelling out most of his inheritance buying his expedition a _yacht_.

"Reckless, high-handed and batshit crazy," he muttered under his breath. "Irresponsible, short-sighted and -" _That one._

They would have to do something about the name. Provided he beat out all other bidders, but John was becoming rather determined about this now. The S.I.-vetted list of particulars spoke of a stellar condition. He had no illusions they'd get to use her often, busy as their schedules had always been and likely would continue to be, but...

Scrolling through the pictures and cross-checking the list of particulars, he could imagine the _Betty_ leave the dock at the East peer - could imagine a group of soldiers and scientists laughing as they boarded for their day off. He could imagine watching them roll up the anchor in the knowledge that it'd be his team's turn again soon.

As much as he loved Atlantis – and returning her to Pegasus had done nothing to assuage John's feeling that he physically couldn't bear to be separated from her long-term – as much as he loved _flying_, there was something about floating in the midst of nothing but water... They might be able to get the same ocean view from the Jumper, true, but the comfort and sheer luxury of it wouldn't compare at all.

Rodney would grumble up a storm and question John's sanity, maturity and other things ending in -ity, but he wouldn't be able to resist checking over and improving the engine. Torren would absolutely _love_ a turn to steer her. Teyla – well, Teyla would love it, and Ronon, at the very least, would enjoy being outside without being chased and sipping one the drinks John planned to have Corporal Bielis or Nurse Tarkley mix.

Leaning back in his desk chair John could almost scent the unique smell of Rodney's sun cream.

Rodney would protest, just like he tended to protest all attempts the team made to get him to wind down a few hours but even he, John imagined, wouldn't be able to deny the pleasure when he'd get to tilt his head into the Lantean sunlight. _And if he does that, I'll have to turn the steering wheel over to Ronon,_ because it would be his day off and so he'd be able to allow himself, for once, to be utterly distracted by the view.

And since there was no one to see him as he sprawled in his own quarters, John allowed himself to take the fantasy further. It was still new, this hope that things he had so long thought unlikely to happen might take place in the not-so-distant future.

He daydreamed of walking across the deck after planting a kiss on Rodney's cheek, of leaving the look of pleasure and slight disbelief that he had seen all but once, the same look John knew he would fail to hide on his own face should his being able to elicit it come true.

_First things first._ "Mark me down for attendance and if I should be tied up with my superiors please forward a bid on item 16." Yes, that sounded okay.

Leaning forward to type his reply to Dave, John couldn't help but shake his head at the lunacy of what he was doing. But if the purchase was insane, and unnecessary, he felt the investment was the exact opposite of those things. It was bigger than what would or would not come to be between he and Rodney, bigger than his team. _Reckless, batshit crazy, financially irresponsible,_ but not short-sighted at all.

Because whatever else, no matter how high-handed a gesture of a rich man's son buying her might be, the _Betty_ would be a solid, in-your face of something permanent. A sign that the city and the planet were no longer something the explorers from Earth just inhabited.

"Now, please don't get snatched up by the censors," John told the email and hit _send_.


End file.
